Laughter
by ebonyandyew
Summary: She had been dragged through a tear in the Bifrost, shoved into a world in chaos, and now had to put up with the company of Anthony Stark. Sif was not happy. Not happy at all. Thor/Sif, mostly movie-verse, myth added where I wanted to hit Kenneth Branagh, though it is not his fault, over the head with a mythology textbook
1. Chapter 1

"I am tired and I am sore, do not test me this morning, mortal."

The woman persisted.

"Are you sure you have no idea where Fury is?"

"As I have said before, I keep no certain knowledge of Director Fury's location."

I filled a mug with the mortals' preferred caffeine-bearing substance.

Tony stumbled up the stairs to the dais that held the morning meal.

"Morning." He muttered.

"Good morning, Anthony." I replied, offering him my filled mug.

He appeared to need it more than I did, so I simply refilled another.

"Is she looking for Ole' Eye Patch?" Tony asked.

"I am considered immortal by most civilizations, yet even I would not attempt those words within his earshot."

"Ignoring the fact that you consider yourself immortal, could someone please tell me where I can find Director Fury?" The woman asked, again.

"I do not consider myself immortal, though I do find it fascinating where humans acquired this notion that we can not die." I took a sip of liquid.

Not bad for mortal fare.

"Wait, you can die?" Tony's eyebrows were threatening an invasion of his hairline.

"In battle, by sword, axe or lance, we are quite able to die."

"And here I was under the impression that the universe would have to endure Goldilocks for an eternity."

"I understand now, why he never speaks highly of you."

"Not even when I beat him in our brawl in the woods?" Tony asked.

"By Captain Rogers' account, and forgive me if I hold more weight in his than yours, it was a draw."

"This is pointless." The woman huffed, before leaving.

"Thank Odin." I muttered under my breath.

Tony laughed.

"Who was she?"

"I know not, I care not. She took in my rather foot soldier-like appearance and assumed that I must know Director Fury's every movement." I said, pulling at the dark blue uniform I had been given. It fit like wet vellum and I did not appreciate it.

"You know, Goldilocks has told us stories of you two sparring, and him winning."

"Ha! As if the behemoth could defeat me, I can dance circles around him."

"Behemoth?" Thor laughed from behind me.

"Yes, behemoth, if you insist on deceiving these poor mortals into believing you could best me." I smirked.

"I have conquered you more than once love."

His phrasing did not pass over Tony's head, who quickly stifled a snicker as his eyes darted back and forth between the two of us.

"For that, Thunderhead, I will grind your face into the floor until that smirk has been scraped from any existence it had." I growled.

"I look forward to this grinding you speak of." Thor grinned.

"Do you two always speak like this, or is it just for my entertainment?" Tony asked no one in particular.

"Attention all members of the Avengers Initiative, please report to Command." A mechanical voice rang out.

"So this duel, we'll call it Melee in Midgard and it'll be held in the gym at, oh, say around one? Alrighty. Good talk." Tony said, before heading off down the hall.

"Arrogant sot." Thor muttered under his breath.

When we reached the door, voices had already been raised.

"War? What war?" A woman's voice cried in disbelief.

Thor stiffened to a halt beside me.

"Why the sudden halt?" I asked with a laugh, reaching for the door handle.

"Sif- I-" Thor started, but just shook his head.

"Sif, Thor, if you could please remove yourselves from the door frame and take your seats."

The woman from before was standing before him, arms crossed, stance defiant. She was a head taller than me, with mousy hair.

"Good, someone who can explain things. Thor, this man's convinced there's a war for the control of Earth."

Realization dawned upon my mind.

So, this was Jane Foster.


	2. Chapter 2

It appeared as if the same realization was dawning upon the rest of the table, as eyes began to flit back and forth between me and Jane Foster.

I swiftly took my spot next to Captain Rogers and leaned back to watch the whole ordeal unfold.

_Go on Odinson, let us see you try and talk your way out of this one_, I laughed internally.

"No catfight then?" Tony asked under his breath, obviously disappointed.

"What cats? And why in the name of the Allfather would you make them fight?" I asked quietly, face contorted in confusion.

"Turn of phrase."

Midgardian language would never cease to confuse me.

I returned my gaze to Thor, who was mumbling on about how nice it was for Jane to be alive and well.

His brother had always been the one with a way with words.

My face soured at that remembrance.

It did at many.

There were few that made me smile now.

How simple it all was back then.

How naive we all were.

"What's wrong, Xena Warrior Princess? Your face is looking a little long."

I shook myself from my thoughts.

"No, no there is nothing wrong."

"Yah sure? Cause' your immortal demi-god boyfriend is gettin' looked over by his mortal ex-girlfriend." Tony prodded. "You know, the woman he almost gave up Asgard for?"

"You really are insufferable, Anthony, and no, I have no concern over what is in the present, it is the past that vexes my mind."

"The past? What use is the past?"

"All I have is the past." I growled. "I am nothing but the past. A bygone god, as you've so joyously said yourself."

"Oh come on Princess, don't say that."

"And why should I not?"

"Because, Princess, in your own special way, you're part of the future now." Anthony gave a wink.

I rolled my eyes and reverted my attention to the Director.

He was watching, just as intently as I was, eyes flitting between Thor and Dr. Foster.

Thor had been stumbling on for quite some time.

He really never was one for words.

When he did speak, it was with few and sparse terms. He meant what he said, there was never misgiving.

"Alright, if the happy little reunion's over, would you please turn your attention back to the front?" Director Fury asked, pointing angrily to the large screen full of images behind him.

"The Chitauri are still out there, as all of you now know, and they seem rather intent on invading us. We got about diddly-squat on these space-slime, but what we do know, is that there is a large invasion force floating somewhere within this galaxy. Which is where Dr. Foster comes in." Director Fury cleared his throat.

They would try and take out the force before it could reach Midgard.

It was a simple enough plan, if only in essence.

"With the knowledge she has of the Great Unknown, we hope to have a functioning plan in place within the month."

The risks involved were great, and even in my usually risk-prone mind it seemed too much.

And if it felt like too much for an Asgardian, Odin knows what the mortals felt.

I glanced warily at Natasha, attempting to gauge her reaction.

Her mask had years of experience behind it, and even then, I could see the faint flicker of hesitation as she looked to Fury.

But there was determination too.

This was their home, and by Valhalla, they'd fight for it.


	3. Author's Note

As you might have figured out, this isn't an actual chapter, sorry!

But I felt like I should give all of you a heads up that things are about to get crazy angsty 'round here even though it says this is supposed to be humor. My mind has decided its not, and besides it had to at some point, it is just how these two work.

My beta is away so things have been taking longer than usual, even though the usual is still horribly slow (sorry! again) and I just want to say thank you, thank you, thank you for everyone hanging around still in spite of this fact.

I promise this next chapter will be up soon and will be significantly longer than the others (we might even have a little bit of Jane POV because I'm mean to my characters).

Thank you times ten,

Love you more than James Potter,

Yew


	4. Chapter 3

Perhaps it was a good thing after all, that Tony had arranged his so called "Melee in Midgaard."

It gave an easy distraction for the uneasiness that had arisen this morning and the ghosts it brought with it.

As I stood at one edge of the ring, I tried to read the expression on Thor's face.

His brows were furrowed, but not in anger, for his jaw was not set, and there was a heaviness that hung in his eyes.

Anthony stood beside him, lightly punching him in the arm every now and then.

"Lady Sif, are you alright?" Captain Rogers asked.

I started at his voice.

"My apologies, my mind must have been with the Vanir."

"Excuse me, who?" He asked, bewildered.

"Er, hm." I thought about it for a moment. "I believe you call them fairies?"

"Oh, of course." Rogers sighed with a bemused nod.

A bell rang, Tony jumped to the middle of the ring and the crowd fell silent.

"Welcome, ladies and gentleman-"

I let Anthony's voice drone on unheard.

Doctor Foster had knocked me off-center, as loathe as I was to admit it, and my mind was becoming murky. The reality of the woman, the confirmation that the events of the past few years were not, in fact, simply in my head, was beginning to drudge up the memories of even more raw and unsettling experiences.

There was something that had changed in the set of Thor's shoulders, and I could sense that the unspoken void between us had begun to grow, as it had after his banishment and **The Fall.**

I had managed to crush the hollow feeling in my stomach, my nights were no longer plagued with dreams and terrors, but now it was starting to creep back into my bones.

The hurt.

The ache.

And then the bell rang again.

Anger filled the hollow, blood rushed to my ears.

Thor was no longer Thor.

He was just another body.

Just another body.

He roared into action and I dodged easily.

I tumbled under his arm and swiped out at his knees with my left leg.

He moved to avoid my swing and countered with one of his own.

It had been like this for what felt like eternity.

The push-pull, back and forth, never truly gaining an advantage over the other.

For all of Thor's muscle bound torque, I had the same willow-limbed dexterity.

I took my opportunity, struck a blow to his stomach under his arm and ducked away before his counter swing could catch me.

Thor rolled his body to accommodate the impact and grappled me, an arm around my waist and one around my neck, yanking my feet off of the ground.

My memory flashed to life and a jolt of panic shot through my veins.

I trashed, swinging my weight backwards, aiming to hit a joint of either his knees or hips, and sent Thor reeling.

It went back and forth for what might've been seconds or minutes, my perception grew dimmer as the fight wore on.

I dully registered the roars and hum of the crowd surrounding us, but it was drowned out by the sounds of laboured breathing and pounding pulses.

Sweat dropped from my brow and tinged my lips with salt.

It was time to end this before my mind became truly frayed.

_Up, down, slide, swing. _

It was one that my brother taught me, and so old I had used it the first day I ever sparred.

_Up, down, slide, swing. _

"_Lady Sif." The instructor called. _

_I stood, my mouth dry, and stepped into the ring drawn in chalk on the armory floor. This would be the first match that any members of our rank would hold. This was the first day our rank had even entered the academy. _

"_Odinson." His voice rang out again. _

_Two boys stepped forward, looking like night and day. The first was broad and tall, fair-haired like me, with smiling blue eyes. The second was willowy and pale, with hair the color of ink. _

"_Not you, your brother." _

_The shorter of the two stepped back against the wall, while the taller advanced into the ring. _

"_Teacher, you should give my brother this chance." He said into the teacher's ear. _

"_Do as I told you." The instructor said with finality. _

_I shook my shoulders out to the stifled laughter behind me. _

_Let them think what they will, I was not about to cede the spot I had battled to gain. _

"_To your marks." _

_The boy and I stood square to each other. _

"_Commence." He said almost lazily. He quite obviously did not expect much from this first trial of his new recruits. _

_Up, down, slide, swing. _

And like I had done then, I landed an uppercut to Thor's jaw, and a haymaker in quick succession to his gut. I slid to the outside and inhaled sharply.

Now came the swing.

I grabbed Thor's left thigh with both of my hands and contorted my whole body to crash against his opposite knee.

He fell like a downed tree.

I scrambled to disengage my legs from under his bulk and stuttered to my feet.

It wasn't precisely the most condoned method, but I had ignored Anthony's rules when he gave them, so I truly did not care.

I wanted this to be over.

It was no longer a distraction but a trap I had set in my own head.

Lie as I might to myself, I knew my shallow gasps for air were not all from exertion.

There were flashes in my mind, of green and gold and the flash of white from a sneering mouth.

Thor came to his feet and shook his head dazedly.

There was pain in his eyes, and confusion.

Two rattling breaths were taken and we began sparring in earnest again.

My exertion began to wear at my muscles and my swings became more and more haphazard, my defense becoming more of a matter of chance and sheer luck than actual anticipation.

Soon we stood face to face, chests heaving.

The hurt was still etched on his face.

And I knew for all of my efforts it was etched on mine as well.

My head began to swim.

"Sifmer?" Thor said quietly.

It was an affection from my childhood.

It meant gleaming, shining, all adjectives that I no longer was.

Every inch ached like a hinge covered in rust and my heart felt like it was tainted with rot.

_He_ was still there, in spite of everything, silver tongue and all.

In my mind, _in my bones_.

I wanted all of him, every inch, every putrefied memory **gone**.

I stood rigid, pleading with my eyes for him to make all of it to go away.

To make it disappear.

"Leave." I heard Thor say lowly.

"What's wrong-" Anthony began to ask.

"LEAVE!" Thor bellowed, as a pair of scarred arms enveloped my shoulders and pulled me to an armor-plated chest.

I only opened my eyes once I had heard the gymnasium door close for the last time.

"You must think I'm a fool." I muttered thickly.

It had been months, nay a year, since Thor had dragged him home in chains and I was still prone to break at the slightest nudge from the past.I was no longer what I once was, the scars were no longer simply on the surface. My mind deceived me, betrayed me, at every turn.

It was not the way for a warrior to be, it was not the stoic, steady face needed in battle.

I was a wreck.

Calloused thumbs smoothed over my cheekbones, made my eyes meet his.

"You are never a fool."


End file.
